


The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty

by jamesgrayweather



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angel!Brendon, M/M, Roleplay, Smut, Soul Punk Era (Fall Out Boy), Soul Punk Era Patrick Stump, Vices & Virtues Era Brendon Urie, devil!patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:36:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesgrayweather/pseuds/jamesgrayweather
Summary: Devils aren't beautiful. They're evil and horrid and everything an angel like Brendon is not.





	The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty

“C’mere, sweet thing.” the thing- _devil,_ Brendon reminds himself, the _devil_ beckons him over with a crooked finger.

 

Brendon hesitantly walks forward, arms clasped behind his back, just below his wings.

 

“Don’t be shy, _mon beau ange._ Come closer.”

 

Brendon continues to walk towards the devil, squeezing his hands tighter.

 

“Drop the robe,” the devil demands.

 

“I-I’m sorry?” Brendon manages to stutter out.

 

“You heard me. Drop the robe.” The devil’s face is twisted into an evil grin, somehow beautiful. Brendon nearly slaps himself for the thought. Devils aren’t beautiful. They’re evil and horrid and everything an angel like Brendon is not. Somehow, though, he finds himself reaching for the fastenings of his robe.

 

“That’s it. Good boy,” the devil praises. The words send heat through Brendon’s stomach, settling between his hips.

 

He drops his robe to the floor. The dark, stone floor of the prince of hell’s kingdom. What in heaven’s name is he doing?

 

Before he has time to answer his own question, the devil speaks again.

 

“Naughty, naughty angel, wearing something like that.” He circles Brendon, grazing his fingertips over the bow that tops off the white lace panties, covered by the garter belt that holds up the sheer stockings. “You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you? Naughty.” He smirks. Brendon flushes from his cheeks down to his chest.

 

“Aww, now you’re embarrassed?” the devil asks.

 

Brendon nods.

 

“Don’t worry, you won’t be by the time I’m done with you.”

 

Brendon flushes harder.

 

The devil continues to circle him, stroking him through the panties. He feels himself growing hard, and his face reddens with shame.

 

“It’s alright to feel these things, you know,” the devil says as he continues to stoke Brendon with one hand, the other hand splayed across his chest. “It’s not evil or sinful or bad. Perfectly natural.”

 

“Y-You-you’re just saying that because you want me,” Brendon says, stammering over the words. He doesn’t want to like this, he knows it’s everything the devil says it isn’t, but it just feels so _good._

 

“I do want you, you’ve got that right. But I’m not just saying that. You know, I was an angel once. And you’ve all got it wrong. Life isn’t about what ‘thou shalt not do’, but what you should. Life is about love and lust and _pleasure._ ” The devil punctuates his sentence by squeezing Brendon particularly hard, making him cry out from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

 

The devil removes his hands from Brendon, making him whimper at the loss. The devil’s hands go to the buttons on his suit jacket, popping it open and discarding it on floor with Brendon’s robe. He unbuttons his shirt next, and it too joins the ever-growing pile of clothing.

 

“What are you doing?” Brendon asks uncertainly.

 

“I noticed I was wearing a few too many clothes. I decided to change that.” The devil unbuckles his belt, pulling it off.

 

“Oh,” is all Brendon can say, his eyes fixed on the noticeable bulge in his pants.

 

The devil leads Brendon to the silken sheet-clad bed, pushing him backwards onto it. Brendon barely has a moment to breathe before the devil is on top of him, grinding their crotches together. Brendon moans, the sounds echoing throughout the cave-like room. The devil captures Brendon’s mouth in a kiss, biting and sucking at his lips. All Brendon can do is gasp and moan against the devil’s mouth.

 

The devil breaks the kiss to pull off his pants, the red lace of his panties contrasting with his pale, full thighs in a way that makes Brendon’s mouth water. He doesn’t care if this is wrong. He wants him.

 

As if reading Brendon’s mind, the devil crawls between Brendon’s legs, pulling down his panties and discarding them somewhere beyond the boundaries of the bed. He nestles between Brendon’s legs, looking up at him through heavy-lidded baby blues.

 

“What are you--oH!” Brendon is cut off as the devil licks a stripe across his hole, making him cry out.

 

“Getting you ready,” the devil says simply, and continues with his ministrations. He licks a few more long, wide stripes across Brendon’s hole before thrusting his tongue inside, making Brendon whine. He adds a finger beside his tongue, pushing it up to the knuckle. He continues swiping his tongue inside Brendon like he’s getting paid for it, slowly pushing in a second finger.

 

Brendon whimpers. It burns, he’s never done this before and it feels so _weird_ but he wants more.

 

The devil places a hand on Brendon’s hip, rubbing small circles into his prominent hipbones. “I’ve got you,” he says, scissoring his fingers, “You’re okay, you’re doing so good, _mon amour._ I promise it’ll get better.”

 

Brendon sucks in a shaky breath and tries to relax. It immediately hurts less, his body growing accustomed to the feeling.

 

The devil adds a third finger, crooking all three upwards and hitting something that has Brendon seeing stars. He hits it again and again, reducing Brendon to a moaning, whimpering mess.

 

But before long, the devil stops completely. Brendon whines as he pulls his fingers out, the empty, wanting feeling settling over him. The devil crouches over Brendon, capturing his lips in a soft, firm kiss. Brendon feels the blunt tip of his cock pressing against his hole and whimpers into the devil’s mouth.

 

And then he’s pushing in, he’s going slowly but it still burns, fire jolting through Brendon’s body and settling in his low back. He cries out, his body so unaccustomed to the feeling, to the act itself, to being defiled in this way. It’s filthy and horrible and sinful but Brendon has never wanted anything more in his life.

 

“It hurts,” Brendon manages to gasp out, his hands fisting in the sheets. He doesn’t recognize his voice- it’s high pitched and childlike in the way it shakes, like a human child that’s skinned their knee. It’s completely unfamiliar.

 

“I know,” the devil says, his voice soft and soothing, “Just relax. It’ll feel better soon. I’ve got you, beautiful. You’ll be alright.”

 

Brendon nods. “You can move.”

 

The devil does, slowly and gently, his eyes rolling back into his head as he does. He moans, a low, primal sound that sends heat shooting through Brendon’s stomach. His thrusts gradually get faster and deeper, eventually hitting the spot that makes Brendon moan, the sound echoing throughout the room.

 

“You’re so beautiful, _mon ange._ So tight, so perfect for me to ruin. And mine, all mine.” The devil leans down and kisses Brendon again, followed by a particularly hard thrust. After that all it takes is one touch to Brendon’s cock and he’s cumming, so hard his vision whites out and he collapses.

 

When he wakes, Patrick is lying next to him, red silk sheets pulled up to his chest.

 

“Welcome back, beautiful.”

 

Brendon laughs, reaching up to remove his crooked halo. “Thank you,” he says.

 

“For what?”

 

“For letting me live out that fantasy. That was possibly the hottest thing we’ve ever done.” Brendon grins, reaching to remove the feathered white wings.

 

“Any time, angel. Any time.”


End file.
